


Pocket Full of Reasons

by 2bestfriends



Series: Rich People Are Wild [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, BDSM, Bottom Rebecca Barnes Proctor, Cunnilingus, Domme Natasha Romanov, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Femdom, Femslash, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Rebecca Barnes Proctor, Top Natasha Romanov, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:59:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2bestfriends/pseuds/2bestfriends
Summary: It's all fun and games on an all-expense paid trip to Maui for spring break until she meets Steve's friend. Natasha is magnetic in a way Becca isn't used to, but she'll be damned if she's going to make it easy.--This is Becca's POV of chapters 13 & 14 ofCollar Full of Chemistry, a Steve/Bucky fic. It can probably be read on its own, but will benefit from the context of the original work.





	Pocket Full of Reasons

For rich people reasons, Becca is going to Maui.

She’s going with Bucky, obviously, because of _Steve_ , which is kind of crazy in and of itself even without the over the top shopping trip that they’re basically _required_ to go on to prepare for it. 

Becca ultimately agrees to it because it seems extremely important to Bucky and it doesn’t take too long for the thrill of buying whatever she wants to settle in. She doesn’t have to compare prices or even, really, check the tag at all, but it’s so weird and so _Steve_. 

Still. She gets to spend all day getting pampered and spoiled with her brother. It’s a good fucking time. 

When they finish up for the day and arrive back at Steve’s building, Becca follows Bucky out of the car, a little surprised to see that Steve is waiting for them. He pulls Bucky straight in for a kiss, mumbling something in his ear that makes Bucky blush. Becca looks away, turning to help Clint load all their ridiculous packages onto a cart.

"You trying to steal my job?" he asks as she lifts up several bags.

"No, just trying not to catch an eyeful of those two," she mutters, motioning her chin their way. "You'd think they've been away from each other all week instead of all day."

Clint laughs. "Yeah, they're always like that." 

They make quick work of all the parcels (at least the ones that actually came with them; some of them are supposed to be delivered tonight). Becca shoulders her backpack and says, "I'm gonna go put my stuff in your room, Bucky."

"Uh huh, okay," mumbles Bucky, still very distracted by Steve.

She rolls her eyes. This is going to be a long trip if she has to feel like a third wheel the whole time. At least Bucky said Steve's friend Natasha would join them for some of the activities. But Becca is going to have to find a spring fling quick if she's gonna avoid being alone every night.

After dinner, she and Bucky do spend most of the evening packing, blasting Panic! at the Disco while they talk excitedly about everything they want to do. Steve peeks his head in around ten. "You two go to sleep soon, okay? Flight is early in the morning and Natasha will be here at 6 AM."

"Okay," says Bucky immediately, nodding. "Goodnight, Steve." Steve ducks back out, leaving them alone.

"Aren't you gonna go sleep with him?" asks Becca, arching an eyebrow at him as she squishes her stuff down and zips up her suitcase. She has a couple of things to throw in her carry on, but she's mostly done packing.

"No," says Bucky, blushing again. "I don't always sleep with him. This is my room."

"And there's dust on your pillow," teases Becca.

"I can if you want me to!" cries Bucky. "I thought we could do it like a slumber party. I've never done that before."

God. Bucky really does just break her heart, sometimes, when he says something like that, his eyes huge and genuine. Then she feels awful, because he didn't get a childhood like hers and she hates that.

"I'm teasing you," she says, softening her voice. "Of course I want to do that. We should get ready for bed."

They both shower, so that they don't have to do it the next morning, and as they're getting into bed, Bucky says, "JARVIS, set an alarm for...ugh, like, 5:45?"

"Of course, Mr. Barnes. Sleep well."

In the morning, they're both half asleep as they pull on comfy airport clothes and pick at some pastries for breakfast. Steve, annoyingly chipper and thoroughly awake, does present them with Starbucks, which means he gains another few points in Becca's mental tally of whether he really is good enough for Bucky.

She's in sweats and a hoodie, wearing zero makeup, hair pulled into a sloppy bun, when she meets Natasha. 

...Who is tiny, perfect, and _gorgeous_ , with her softly curled red hair and huge green eyes and immaculate skin.

"You didn't warn me," she hisses, kicking Bucky, who seems to be asleep on the spot. He startles and blinks owlishly at her. "Natasha! Is! Beautiful!"

"Oh!" he says. "Uh, I mean...yes. She's also terrifying."

"I want her to step on me," vows Becca fervently. Natasha and Steve are chatting about something. Who knows? Maybe how much money they have and if they should light some on fire for fun. Whatever rich people do. But god, Natasha is beautiful.

Bucky goes very red at that and sputters. " _Becca_."

"Oh relax, it's fine. But next time we're about to meet one of the most beautiful women on the planet, could you like give me a heads up so I could at least put on some lip gloss or something?" she sighs, yanking on her hoodie strings to bring it down further on her face and hunching over to sip at her latte.

"I think you're really pretty," mutters Bucky, slurping at his own drink.

"You're legally required to say that. I'm your long lost twin. Also, we look alike."

Bucky makes a disgruntled noise but mostly goes back to being nonverbal. Clint from last night appears to take all their bags down to the limo and Steve and Natasha come over. "Becca, this is my work colleague and friend, Natasha Romanoff. Nat, this is Bucky's sister, Becca Proctor."

Natasha puts out her hand. "It's so nice to meet you, Becca."

Oh god, her voice is...so sexy. Becca blinks at her and tries to remember how to function. "Um, it's nice to meet you too." She belatedly takes Natasha's hand, who puts her other hand over Becca's and shakes it warmly, giving Becca a little squeeze before releasing her. 

"We'll have to keep these boys on their toes this week, won't we? Maybe if they get too annoying, we can have a girls' day." Natasha is smiling at her and even though Becca is quite a bit taller than her, she feels pinned by those bright green eyes.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be good." Becca pulls her hand back as quickly as she can manage without being rude (she hopes).

Natasha keeps looking at her, even as Steve claps his hands cheerfully and says, "Okay, time to go."

The ride to the airport is surprisingly brief. Becca texts with Bucky back and forth even though they're sitting right next to each other.

 **Becca** : is it just me or does she always look at people like she's trying to decide how difficult it would be to dispose of your body??  
**Bucky** : she's not THAT bad  
**Becca** : yeah huh.  
**Bucky** : she's intense  
**Becca** : that's what I'm saying!!!!  
**Bucky** : but she's not going to dispose of your body  
**Becca** : I mean I'd let her do all sorts of things to my body but I'm not into snuff

"Oh my god," groans Bucky, dropping his phone and putting his hands over his face.

Becca snickers.

The airport is super weird. They go through their own version of security, where there's no line, and they're boarding the plane in like...less than fifteen minutes. There's no waiting at all.

"Holy shit," says Bucky, looking around at his little seat pod, his eyes huge.

"Hot towel?" offers the flight attendant. Bucky takes it, directing a pleading stare at Becca.

"Face and hands," says Becca, accepting her own.

They get settled and Bucky immediately drops off to sleep for a bit, so Becca is pulling out her headphones when Natasha says, "I can't remember the last time I went on vacation. I know I have to work a bit, but it doesn't even matter. Once the conference is done, I can just hibernate by the pool."

"I was at Disney with my parents for my birthday, but it was all nonstop activities and no lounging whatsoever. I'm so glad we blocked off time for just relaxing," agrees Becca, somehow managing to speak words even though her brain is screaming. "I'm gonna get some color."

"Lucky," says Natasha and her gaze glides over Becca. "I burn to a crisp. You'll find me in the shade."

Becca runs through ten different responses in her head ranging from joking about cabana boys to asking if Natasha wants help putting on sunscreen. When reason returns to her, she clears her throat and manages, "oh well, I’m sure...it’ll still be warm."

God, this is not her standard M.O. She's usually so much better at this!

Natasha looks amused but kindly doesn’t laugh in her face. "Steve sent me the itinerary. I’m excited for the hike to the waterfalls. Are you a daredevil? Will you jump off with me?"

Becca swallows. "I.... Yeah."

"Good," says Natasha. "Steve said he just sent you two to get pampered yesterday, but I haven't had a massage in ages. The hotel has them available beachside in this beautiful cabana. You should come with me some morning when the boys can't be bothered to leave their room yet."

"Oh, I... yeah," repeats Becca. "That sounds nice."

What is _happening_ to her. She's never this inarticulate with pretty girls. She has successfully dated several different women! She is the queen of casual flirting! She's not this speechless, gameless _nerd_.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to have a Bloody Mary and watch a movie for the first few hours of this flight. Join me?"

"I...how?" asks Becca, eyes wide.

"Oh, well, two pods next to each other can sort of form their own cocoon," explains Natasha.

"Isn't someone else sitting next to you?"

"Oh," says Nat, gesturing broadly. "No, for security reasons, Stark Industries often books the entire first class section when we have to travel commercial."

Oh my _god_. Becca just thought no one else had boarded yet!

Nat smiles softly at her. "I know it's a lot. A Bloody Mary will help ignore the excess though?"

"Yeah," breathes Becca, because a hot redhead with a great rack wants to cocoon with her to watch a movie and drink, and who is she to refuse? "Yeah, sure, I think I can probably find it in myself to adapt."

She spends the rest of the flight next to Natasha, either drinking or napping. It's great. She rallies a little in the end, stops sounding like she's never interacted with a human being in her life, and they are definitely flirting.

It means Becca needs a game plan, though, because this vacation is ten days long, and if she hooks up with Natasha on the first night, that's going to make things awkward.

Plus, she likes being chased—when she invites it. She's always made people work for it, and Natasha, for once, seems like the kind of woman that can take up that challenge, can handle her. It won't be fun to just give in. Becca's not that desperate. She's going to flirt, play dumb and hard to get, and she's going to enjoy this while she can.

It's a long flight, plenty of time to think about it, and by the time they finally disembark, she's happy to realize she definitely won't be a third wheel, at least, to Steve and Bucky's weird relationship. She's garnered her very own hot, rich suitor, and she is very okay with being Natasha's vacation distraction.

It's been almost a whole day of flying, but it's mid-afternoon in Maui thanks to the time change. There's a private car to pick them up at the airport and bring them to the resort, where Becca has her own enormous, light, airy, ocean-facing suite. Natasha and Steve and Bucky's rooms are on either side of her.

They all disperse to shower and get freshened up, reconvening for dinner on the patio of the hotel. They’re practically on the sand, a sea breeze floating in as the sun sets with a wild splash of red and orange.

"This place is beautiful," Bucky whispers, staring out at the ocean clutching his enormous pink drink. There's almost an entire pineapple cut up on top of it.

Becca put on one of her new dresses for dinner and she doesn't think she's imagining Natasha's gaze on her body as she sips her own cocktail.

There's a soft humidity in the air, something not overpowering but settling over Becca's skin. She’s wearing a light gauzy scarf around her shoulders and she shrugs it off, smiling to herself as Natasha's eyes follow the cloth when her shoulder is revealed. Natasha's gaze flicks back to her face, catching the smirk. Becca feels warmth in her cheeks but she meets Natasha's look boldly.

"It is very beautiful here," says Natasha, agreeing with Bucky as she takes a sip of her own drink.

Becca lets her own smile grow and she looks away toward the beach. "Bucky, I think we should definitely cancel all plans for tomorrow except laying on this beach."

"Yeah," agrees Bucky. "I think I read on the website they'll bring food and drinks straight to you."

"We have a private cabana," says Steve, leaning into Bucky's space to kiss his temple. God, Steve is so obviously in love with Bucky. Becca wonders if Bucky's figured it out yet. "Have the concierge show you to it in the morning after we leave for the conference."

They don't talk a lot about his relationship with Steve after the initial snafu. But Bucky has to know this isn't just some business arrangement for Steve anymore, right?

Ugh. It's not her business. It's not. Bucky is a grown up.

And anyway, she's got her own things to consider. She can still feel Natasha's stare.

God, she might have to go shopping again. She didn't buy nearly enough slutty stuff for the fun she's going to have this week teasing Natasha.

They take it easy that night, recovering from a long flight; after a truly delicious seafood dinner and more drinks, they walk along the nearby beach until it's dark, and then retire back to the rooms to go to sleep. It's a bit weird being alone in this suite, but Becca's plane naps didn't really stretch to helping her stay up, so she has a quick shower, slides into fresh sheets, and goes to sleep.

She wakes for sunrise, which is bonkers. When she realizes it, she drags herself out of bed, not bothering to throw anything on over the shorts and tank top she went to sleep in, grabbing her phone to take some pictures.

That's when she discovers that she and Natasha share a balcony, because Natasha is outside already, curled up on a deck chair with a cup of coffee, equally if not more scantily clad than Becca is.

"Oh," says Becca, heat flooding her cheeks. "Oh, god, I'm sorry, I didn't realize—"

"Don't apologize," says Natasha in that husky voice, and, oh, she is checking Becca out so hardcore. "We can share."

"I just," says Becca, gesturing to the sky.

"By all means," murmurs Natasha.

Becca...has no shame. She walks past Natasha to the railing, leaning into it, ass out, and spends a while getting pictures.

When she turns back, Natasha slides her gaze very obviously from ass height up to Becca's face. "Get some good shots?"

"I think so. Wanna see?"

Natasha nods, so Becca leans in beside her, plumping up her cleavage with her arms as she shows Natasha her phone.

Natasha is good, looking with interest at the pictures before she looks up, her eyes sliding up over Becca's chest before meeting her eyes again. She has absolutely no shame as she does so either, which makes heat pool in Becca's stomach as she feels the sudden ache of desire between her legs. She has to fight not to squirm. Natasha's eyes are very green this close up.

"Very nice," murmurs Natasha.

"Yeah," whispers Becca. She straightens up, noticing the pot of coffee on the small table next to Natasha. There's an extra cup. She gestures toward it. "May I?"

"Absolutely." She takes another sip of her own. "Steve and I have to go to an opening breakfast, so you and Bucky will be on your own all morning. If you call the private concierge, they can arrange for breakfast to be waiting for you when you get down to the cabana."

"Good tip," says Becca, fixing herself some coffee to sip. "What exactly are you guys doing at this conference?"

"Being seen, mostly," says Natasha with a shrug. "Stark speaks for itself. We like to be seen at these things so that we keep the competition in check."

Wow. Becca likes how frank Natasha is about this kind of thing. She doesn't try to dress it up.

"So you get to fly out to Maui, stay in a luxury resort, and be treated like royalty," says Becca, sighing as she sits down with her cup of coffee. "That sounds like a dream."

Natasha cocks her head. "It has its perks. A lot of them. Now that I'm here, I tell myself I'm allowed to enjoy it, after the years of work I put in."

"Does it work?"

"Sometimes." Natasha smiles. "Sometimes I still feel like an imposter."

"I guess everyone feels like that occasionally," allows Becca. They sip quietly at their coffee, watching the sun rise, until eventually Natasha stands up and stretches. She's wearing lingerie, essentially; black lace panties and a silky black camisole. Her skin is milky pale, but sparsely freckled in some spots on her shoulders and hips. Becca can barely tear her eyes away.

"I’m gonna hit the gym before the conference. Enjoy your morning," says Natasha. "We'll see you in the afternoon."

"Find us by the water, probably," says Becca. "Have a good day."

Natasha leaves and Becca leans back and lets out a soft groan. When she gets back inside, she indulges herself, lying on her back in bed and jerking off to thoughts of Natasha.

Bucky isn’t answering texts yet, presumably still asleep, and Becca wants more coffee, but she wants it _iced_ , so she gets dressed and heads down to the hotel coffee shop. What she didn’t notice before now is that one enormous glass wall faces into the hotel’s gym. 

There aren’t a lot of people in there this early but Natasha’s red hair catches Becca’s eye. She stares at Natasha as she effortlessly does pull ups, the muscles in her arms taut. 

She stretches between each set of reps, Becca’s eyes zeroing in on Natasha’s tight peach of an ass in her workout leggings. 

When Natasha starts deadlifting two hundred pounds, though, Becca can’t help the agonized sound that wheezes out of her. That could be her. That could be Becca, braced in Natasha’s arms. She could carry her, pin her down— 

When she zones back into reality and turns her attention back to Natasha, it looks like she’s cooling down, towel tossed over her shoulder. Becca bites her lower lip, looking away hurriedly when Natasha makes eye contact with her, lips curling into a knowing smile. 

By the time she brings herself to take another peek, Natasha is gone. 

Becca orders her coffee and scurries back upstairs to her room. 

Bucky emerges about an hour later, when Becca is showered and ready for lounging, and he looks adorably rumpled and sleepy in board shorts and a tank. They go down to the cabana and have their breakfast delivered there. Fed and re-caffeinated, they go for a walk into the nearby town and Becca ends up buying a few pairs of cheap crop tops and shorts and miniskirts.

They head back for lunch, eat oysters on the beach, and then change into bathing suits (anticipating Natasha later, Becca puts on a tiny yellow bikini that cuts up high in the back and ties up in front, giving her boobs a lot of oomph). They slather themselves in sunscreen and lie poolside for a while, alternating between chairs under the umbrellas and in the sun.

"You two look like you're enjoying yourselves."

Steve's deep voice draws her out of a doze and she sits up, pushing her sunglasses up to her forehead, Bucky mirroring her almost exactly on her right.

Steve laughs but Becca's gaze goes immediately to Natasha. She has on a sharp business suit, cream with a green silk shirt underneath and a thick gold and emerald necklace around her neck. Her hair and makeup are perfect, one side swept up in a pretty clip revealing earrings that match her necklace. Her tailored pants end just above her ankles, revealing cream heels at least six inches high. She walks on them as if they may as well be the most comfortable tennis shoes in the world.

"We are," says Bucky next to her. Becca finally drags her gaze away from Natasha to look at him. He's grinning up at Steve. "All done for the day?"

Becca looks back at Natasha, who is taking in every inch of her, sliding over her thighs and across her stomach and up to her chest. Becca can't suppress the shiver, the gaze so intense it feels physical. She presses her knees together as the thought of Natasha between her legs makes her feel hot and wet.

"Yes," says Natasha, answering Bucky. "We came to get you two so you could dress for dinner. There's a small reception tonight. Drinks only. We thought we'd be seen with two of the prettiest people on the island and then take you two to dinner."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," murmurs Becca, reaching up to push her hair off her shoulders. Natasha follows the motion. "What's the dress code?"

"Semi-formal," says Steve. He looks at Bucky. "A suit for you. The grey one, blue shirt?"

He makes it into a question, but it's entirely for the benefit of Natasha and Becca and is clearly a veiled command. Bucky nods and it's hard to tell in the sun, but there's a blush creeping down his chest. God, they're ridiculous. Gross.

She looks at Natasha and almost asks, 'Aren't you going to tell _me_ what to wear?' but she holds it in. "Well," she says instead. "I need to wash off all this sunscreen, then."

"We'll meet you in the lobby in an hour," says Natasha.

Steve slings an arm around Bucky's shoulders heavily, guiding him off to their room, but Becca takes a minute to gather her things and her thoughts before she goes upstairs. She showers, dabs on some perfume, and selects one of her dresses, a demure knee-length height, but with a considerable dip in the front. It's a deep red and she pairs it with the standard black heels she brought.

Becca hit six feet tall in ninth grade and spent four years mortified that she was taller than just about everyone, even most of the boys. She came out in college, though, and made the stunning discovery that tiny girls love her height. She's embraced it ever since, wearing heels whenever she feels like it, standing up tall.

Feeling extremely sexy, she goes down to the lobby, finds a free chair, and poses attractively with her legs crossed at the ankle. She sees several people check her out while she waits, smiling to herself. 

She reaches up to play with the delicate gold chain she's wearing, a Hanukkah gift from her parents when she was 18. She has tiny matching gold hoops in her ears and when she wears them, she always feel pretty and delicate.

When Natasha appears, stepping off the elevator across from her, she's wearing what can only be described as the perfect little black dress. The neckline plunges to obscenity but the way she walks, the sweep of her hair to one side, the expression on her face...it's clear anyone who underestimates her would be doing so at their own peril.

She lights up when she sees Becca, striding across the lobby in perfect black louboutins, the red sole flashing with every step. Becca wants to lay at her feet, her mouth gone dry by the time Natasha stops in front of her.

"Don't you look lovely," says Natasha, smiling down at her, lips painted the same color as Becca's dress. "You look good in red."

Oh, fuck. "Thank you. You're not terrible to look at either," she manages, standing to rebalance the scales.

She's definitely taller than Natasha, but Becca miscalculated that looking down at her means a perfect view of her incredible tits. Becca wants to press her whole fucking face into Natasha's cleavage, smother herself. Natasha also doesn't seem even a little concerned about the height imbalance, managing to look perfectly in control of everything around her even when looking up at Becca.

Literally everyone in the lobby is casting sidelong glances at them, checking them out. It gives Becca a rush, a whole new confidence, knowing she's immaculate and smooth under her outfit, that if she wanted to have sex with Natasha tonight she could, and she wouldn't feel self-conscious about taking off her dress in front of someone like her.

Thank god for the spa.

"The boys are late," sighs Natasha, plump lips pursing, but even before Becca can open her mouth to reply, the elevator doors open and Steve and Bucky step out.

Steve looks—like a model. Like a marble statue come to life, in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, his sun-kissed hair styled artfully, blue eyes piercing. He's trimmed his beard, and he looks like he owns the entire fucking room. Well, Natasha exudes the same energy. Co-owners, then.

Bucky looks a bit nervous, but he's in a rich grey suit, blue shirt, and he's clearly spent a long time styling his hair into voluminous waves. Steve guides him forward with a possessive hand at his back.

"Wow," blurts Bucky, his eyebrows shooting up as he takes in Natasha and Becca. "You both look _incredible_."

"Thank you, sugar," purrs Natasha, and for some reason, Bucky's cheeks go rosy pink.

"You don't look so bad yourself," says Becca, smirking at him. In her heels, she's taller than him. Eye level with Steve.

"What am I?" asks Steve, laughing. "Chopped liver?"

"Aww," mocks Natasha. "Did we hurt your feelings?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "Come on, let's go make everyone jealous."

Becca quickly notices that they do exactly that. Everyone in the ballroom turns to look at them when they come in and there are stares of open jealousy as the group of them make their way to the bar. Becca's never been the center of attention like this before. Normally, she loves attention, but Bucky even seems better adjusted to it than her. As she nervously stands behind Steve and Bucky at the bar, Natasha slides up next to her.

"Let me get you a drink?" she offers. She's in Becca's space but Becca doesn't mind. It feels...safe, secure to be at the center of Natasha's attention rather than the whole room's.

"Sure," she breathes out. "Um...just some champagne?"

"It'll go straight to your head," warns Nat, but she's smiling and warm. She signals the bartender with confidence and gets attention immediately. "Glass of champagne and a gin and tonic, extra lime."

"I think I need something that'll go straight to my head," she confesses. "This room is a lot."

The drinks appear quickly and Natasha hands over Becca's stupidly extravagant crystal flute before speaking. "I can think of lots of fun distractions."

Becca takes a long drink. She keeps her voice low. Behind them, Steve is introducing Bucky to another conference attendee. "I bet you can, but I was promised dinner."

"That's fine. I know how to bide my time for worthwhile things."

"Yeah, it does seem like you're...pretty determined."

"That's the only way to get what you want in life," says Natasha, giving Becca a very meaningful look.

"Well, I can admit I'm enjoying watching all that determination at work," confesses Becca, taking another sip.

Natasha takes her own drink, watching Becca closely. "Noted."

Steve and Bucky have moved to the hors d'oeuvre table. Bucky is leaning against the wall eating something bite-sized and fancy, while Steve leans up next to him, a possessive hand on his chest. Bucky looks flushed, while Steve talks close to his ear.

"Think they'll ever get their shit together?" Becca asks, to change the subject, because her heart is pounding.

"Hmm," hums Natasha. "How do you mean?"

"Steve loves Bucky," says Becca. "It's not just...whatever arrangement they wrote down, like I thought at first. He is head over heels. Wait," she says, jerking her head to look at Natasha. "Shit. You know about their...uh, thing, right?"

Natasha chuckles softly. "Yes. Steve can't keep much from me for long."

"Thank god," groans Becca. "Anyway. I want to smack their heads together."

She drains her champagne, already feeling the warm buzz on an empty stomach, and turns her attention back to Natasha. "Dance with me?" she asks, because...why the fuck not? Make everyone stare. Natasha will take care of her.

"Sure," obliges Natasha. She finishes her own drink and holds her hand out to Becca.

Usually, because Becca is tall, she gets stuck with leading, even though she doesn't like to. With Natasha, though, she settles into being led, and Natasha takes over, guiding them onto the dancefloor with the other guests.

Natasha is so _strong_ , too, those muscles Becca was admiring in the gym flexing in her arms as she pushes Becca into a small spin and draws her back, guiding her close with firm hands. Becca may be tall but she's lanky, thin, and a bookworm on top of that (even though she maintains that she's not a nerd). Her workouts are pure cardio.

Natasha lifts actual weights, so her shoulders are carefully defined, arms flexing as she controls the dance. God, she could definitely hold Becca down with no effort expended, hold her face to Natasha's cunt until she couldn't breathe and—

Fuck.

Becca licks her lips, feeling breathless as the song comes to a close and Natasha easily directs her into a second and third dance, until Becca is dizzy from how aroused she is and has to step back from Natasha. "I... I'm going to the restroom. I'll be right back."

She hurries away, refusing to turn around and look. She shuts herself in a stall and leans her back against the cool wood, making herself breathe. Natasha is Steve's best friend. And Steve is her brother's...mess. And who knows what Natasha really thinks about that, thinks of what Steve has with Bucky. 

Becca isn't for sale.

She hates herself as soon as she thinks it. That's not what Bucky did. Not exactly. And it's not even like that at all anymore.

She's always thought it was kind of ridiculous, how Steve directs Bucky around, how Bucky reacts. And yes, she's always liked women who were pushy, _bossy_ , who could lead, but there really haven't been many. At least...not for Becca. 

Finding someone who she was both attracted to and who didn't view her height as an automatic given that she was interested in doing all the leading, or at least most of it, has been next to impossible. Becca gets the distinct impression that Natasha isn't interested in anything but being in total control of anything she does with Becca. And Becca's not entirely sure she's interested in that.

At least not past a few days on vacation, where nothing really counts.

She just needs to make that clear to Natasha. This is a spring fling. That's all.

By the time she centers herself enough to head back out, Natasha is waiting with Steve and Bucky at the bar. There's another glass of champagne for Becca.

"Have that," says Natasha, "Steve and I are going to say goodbye to some key attendees. We'll be back."

Becca takes the champagne and sips it as Steve and Natasha walk off.

She blinks and realises that Bucky is staring at her. "What?" she demands, taking a bigger gulp.

"Are you okay?" he asks, neutral. "You look a little...shaken."

"I'm fine," she says, annoyed that Bucky can tell. 

He purses his lips. "I saw you dancing with Natasha. You guys have been..." He wrinkles his nose, sighing. "There's a lot of tension," he continues, like he doesn't want to be acknowledging it. "You're into her, right?"

"She's hot," says Becca, shrugging.

"That's not fair," says Bucky. "You practically stalked Steve and now you won't tell me what's going on with you and Natasha?"

Becca sighs. "I don't know. It feels like it could be a vacation fling, or something. I'm making her work for it, though."

Natasha and Steve return, saving them from further discussion. It cools down a bit when they go to dinner, but because Steve and Bucky are the kind of nerds that sit next to each other at a dinner table, it means Becca is next to Natasha, and during dessert, Natasha's hand ends up high on Becca's thigh.

It's bold and possessive and it lights Becca up from the inside. She doesn't once considering asking Natasha to stop.

"Excuse me," she says, sliding her chair out. "Gonna powder my nose."

"I'll join you," says Natasha, just like Becca assumed she would, and Becca ignores the look on Bucky's face.

The bathroom is empty, clean, mirrored all over, and lit with candles. 

"I feel like we're on the same page, here," murmurs Natasha, sliding a finger up Becca's bare arm, making her shiver.

"Depends," says Becca. "What are you looking for?"

"Some fun," shrugs Natasha. "I'm not a romantic."

"Okay," says Becca. "Good. And when it's over, it's over, yeah? I don't want to complicate Bucky's life."

Natasha shakes her head. "I don't want to complicate any of our lives. But there's chemistry here and it would be a shame for it to go to waste in such a beautiful place."

"Agreed," says Becca. "But maybe...I want to feel out my options first."

Natasha's hand slides back up her arm, over her shoulder, and before Becca even realizes it, she's sitting on the little padded bench in front of the mirror. Natasha is standing over her again, and whatever magic Natasha has to not seem vulnerable when she's looking up, Becca certainly hasn't mastered it. Her throat is bared and Natasha's hand cups the side of her neck, her thumb gliding gently up and down.

"Then you should do that, of course," says Natasha. "You're a big girl, you can make your own decisions."

"Yeah," breathes Becca. "I can."

There's a smile on the corner of Natasha's lips and she leans in, catching Becca's in a kiss. It's chaste at first, the glance of pillowy red lips against Becca's, then just the flick of tongue. Then there's the sharp sting of teeth and when Becca gasps, Natasha's tongue sliding against hers.

It goes from zero to a hundred in less than a second. Becca is suddenly overheated, helpless against Natasha's strong grip, and she moans, eyelashes fluttering.

Natasha keeps her chin tipped up with one hand, while the other slides down, a confident grasp on Becca's torso, Natasha flicking a thumb over Becca's nipple.

"Oh my god," whispers Becca, jerking in her seat, eyes widening. "Isn't that a bit..." She pauses, swallowing hard. Don't be easy. Make her work for it. "That's a little forward," she says, smiling up at Natasha and curling her fingers around her wrist.

Natasha smiles back, then kisses her again, until Becca is breathless and gasping, and the door opens and Becca startles to her feet, turning to the mirror and grabbing a tissue to blot her lips.

Natasha leans up on the counter alongside her and murmurs, "You could come to my room tonight."

"Maybe..." Becca exhales shakily. "Maybe tomorrow. We have that waterfall hike in the morning. Gotta get some sleep."

Natasha's eyes glint with something that might be pride. She definitely looks impressed. "Of course," she murmurs. "Tomorrow, then."

Becca and Natasha make it back out to the table looking reasonably like they didn't just make out in the bathroom, although if Bucky's face is anything to go off of, Becca's not fooling anyone.

Steve clears his throat. "Bill's been handled. Should we go for an evening walk back to the hotel? Or call a car?"

"I'm a little tired," says Becca, not convinced that if she goes for a walk in the dark with Natasha, she won't end up in a bush with the woman. "And the waterfall is in the morning."

"Right, of course," says Steve. "That's fine. I think I'd like to get to bed myself." He looks over at Bucky.

He's not subtle.

Becca heads out with everyone and makes it back to the room. She goes to bed in nothing, rolling onto her stomach and drawing her knees up underneath her. She reaches between her legs with one hand while she clings to the pillow with the other. She's slick and hot, her fingers sliding everywhere.

She presses her mouth to the pillow and groans, wishing desperately she'd thought to pack her vibrator. She wants to get off, fast and hard, but she has to work for it, pressing her long fingers inside her cunt, grinding her clit against her palm. It's not enough, it's not nearly enough, but it feels good. She rides her own hand for awhile until she just can't take it anymore, giving up on a one-handed approach.

She bites the pillowcase, fingers stuffed inside herself, the other hand rubbing frantically at her clit, picturing Natasha's mouth on her, Natasha's fingers inside of her, those piercing green eyes watching her. With a muffled groan she comes, gushing wet all over the bed.

Fuck, she's going to have to ask housekeeping to change the sheets.

But that's a thought for the morning as she collapses down, limbs shaking and panting loudly. Sleep rushes up to claim her, and she doesn't wake again until her phone alarm goes off in the morning.

It's going to be a hot day, and they're going to be walking a lot, so Becca tries to focus on that, having a quick shower, pulling her long hair into a high ponytail, and then putting on a pair of high waisted jeans shorts and a crop top. She puts on her cute white tennis shoes, and packs a little bag with water and snacks from the kitchenette.

When they meet downstairs for a big breakfast, she finds Steve and Bucky in shorts and tanks and Natasha wearing capri leggings and a loose, airy sleeveless top.

"Hats," says Becca, after they’ve eaten and are shuffling outside to wait for their ride. "Everyone got hats? Sunscreen?"

"Yes, mom," mumbles Bucky, who is not a morning person and is leaning heavily into Steve and yawning as he nurses a cup of tea.

"I'm mostly covered," says Natasha, "but there's a spot I can't reach." When she turns, Becca sees that her top has an open back.

"Okay," says Becca, her mouth going dry. "I can...I can get it."

Which is how she ends up carefully smearing sunscreen on Natasha's shoulders and down the small of her back for her while they wait for the car.

Bucky smirks at her, while Steve pretends not to notice them and checks his phone.

Becca ignores her annoying terrible brother (who she is SO GRATEFUL FOR, REALLY) and just concentrates on making sure every inch of Natasha's fair, delicate skin is covered (not on how soft and smooth it feels and how she wants to strip Natasha down and touch all of her).

"Okay," she says, voice hoarse. She clears it and puts the sunscreen away.

"Thanks." Natasha turns and smiles at her, and, fuck, she's beautiful, even without any makeup, looking almost as young as Becca is.

Hard to get! Unattainable! Becca is not easy!

“Here you go,” says Bucky, appearing beside Becca with a bottle of water. “You look really thirsty.”

“Fuck you!” hisses Becca, smacking him on the shoulder. 

Natasha turns away, apparently to save Becca’s dignity, but it looks like she’s hiding a smile.

"Ride's here," announces Steve suddenly, saving her brother’s life.

The hike is nicely paced, but they have to concentrate on not falling on the slippery trail, following their guide who talks about the island and the preserve they're on, the wild life and vegetation native to the state. Bucky wakes up and keeps pace with Becca mostly. Neither of them are slouches by any means, but Natasha and Steve...well. Whatever fucking gym the two of them belong to is superhuman.

They are fucking _thriving_ with this athletic bullshit, sweaty and sunshiny and not even remotely out of breath. The guide gives them several breaks which Bucky and Becca gratefully take, drinking water and snacking. Meanwhile, they take their eyes off Steve and Natasha for five seconds and the two of them are challenging each other to see who can climb a tree the fastest (Natasha wins but only because a branch breaks on Steve's heavy ass and he nearly falls to his doom).

"OH MY GOD!" yells Bucky, jumping up and running to the tree. Steve is dangling from a lower branch that he caught himself on.

He grins down at Bucky. "I'm fine!"

"You're INSANE!" yells Bucky, hands in his hair. "Please get down! Steve!"

Steve recovers quickly, leaping to the next branch, doing a fucking obnoxious flip, and then landing neatly on his feet. Bucky makes a strangled noise and throws his arms around Steve, squeezing at him.

"I'm fine!" repeats Steve, laughing as he rubs Bucky's back. He looks oddly pleased and surprised by Bucky's concern.

Becca looks at Natasha, eyebrows raised, and says, "he always like this?"

"Reckless and stupid? Yep," says Natasha, popping the p. "He once broke his leg racing Tony up a sheer rock wall during a team building event. He was insufferable for weeks."

"Oh my god," snorts Becca. "Wow."

Bucky has released Steve but he still has a hand on him as they finish their break and keep going on their hike.

The waterfall, when they reach it, is stunning. The mist rises up and creates a glimmering rainbow, and Becca shrieks with glee and grabs Bucky, crying, "A gay waterfall, just for us! For the gay Barnes twins!"

Bucky's face does something weird, his eyes going a bit wet, and he says, "can we...take a selfie?"

Becca's heart squeezes, her stomach going wobbly. "Yeah of course, Bucky. C'mere."

She pulls Bucky under one arm, hooking it around his neck, and with the other she holds up her phone and takes several selfies of them together in front of the waterfall. Then, she posts them to her instagram hashtagged with #springbreak2019 #maui and #twinlife.

Bucky looks ecstatic and leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek. She kisses his back and then says, "Come on, let's put our stuff down and jump! We can't let Steve do all the crazy stuff."

Bucky huffs but nods and they strip down into just their swimsuits, leaving everything else on the ground to the side and then climbing up to the top. The guide is up there, making sure they know the safest place to jump from. Becca takes Bucky's hand. "You ready?"

"I guess!" he says, looking a bit wild-eyed.

She laughs. "On the count of three!"

They count off and then jump, screaming the whole way down until they hit the water.

Steve and Natasha are there at the edge, cheering them on, and Steve reaches down into the water and helps pull them up when they swim over. He pulls Bucky into his arms, kissing him, and Becca looks away toward Natasha. "So...you want to go with me next?"

"Absolutely," says Natasha. She pulls her shirt up off her head and pushes her capris over her hips. Below is a fairly sporty two piece, more practical for outdoor adventures (and similar to what Becca herself wore for this hike), but Natasha still looks incredible in it. Her stomach is pale and toned and Becca wants to lick it.

"Cool," says Becca, mouth dry. She turns away and heads up the cliff again, trusting Natasha to follow. She does.

At the top, she turns to Becca. "Hold my hand on the way down?"

"Why, are you scared?"

"No," says Natasha. She smiles and holds out her hand.

Becca takes it and they jump.

Becca shrieks, because half the fun is screaming, and Natasha squeezes her hand tight and lets out an exhilarated little screech right before they hit the water.

When Becca surfaces, Natasha pops up right next to her, tossing her hair back like a mermaid and laughing brightly. Under the water, Natasha squeezes her hand, and they swim over to the side where Steve easily hefts them out of the water and they wring their hair out, breathless and giggling.

Steve says, "C'mon, Buck, jump with me," and he scoops Bucky up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and hauls him up the cliff, while Bucky laughs and clings to Steve.

Becca turns to Natasha, grinning at her, feeling happy and light, and Natasha smiles back, winking at Becca.

They all take turns going up and jumping several more times, then just swimming around lazily before dragging themselves reluctantly out of the water and laying out some towels to dry off, snack, and hydrate.

When the allotted time comes to an end, the guide collects them, they get redressed, and they all head back the way they came.

Becca finds herself keeping pace with Steve, at one point, while Natasha leads, and Bucky trails behind them, taking some video of something that caught his eye. Becca turns to him and says, "Thanks for letting me come along. It's...I'm having a really good time."

"I'm glad," says Steve. His hair has dried in all directions, making him look oddly more approachable than he usually does, and his smiles are very easy and free today. "I'm happy you came. So's Buck. And..." his smile turns a little sly. "You and Natasha seem to be getting along quite well."

"Oh my god," she groans, glancing forward at where Natasha is marching. "Not you, too. Listen, there's four of us, and you and Bucky are all over each other. We naturally pair together for company."

"Right," says Steve, shrugging. "Of course. I'm glad you two are getting along, then, since you're forced to spend all this time together, rubbing sunscreen on each other, dancing, holding hands..."

Her cheeks heat and she glares at him. "It's not that deep, okay? We like each other but it's casual. Please don't make it a thing!"

Steve holds up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Just...she's more vulnerable than she lets on, okay. She'd probably murder me for saying so, but she's my friend."

"Oh how the turntables," mutters Becca. "I can't believe you're giving me The Talk about her."

Steve snorts. "It's less of a talk and more of heads up. She's a big girl. She can take care of herself just fine. I trust that you can do the same."

"Yes," she says, half tempted to use this moment to call him out again for being in love with Bucky and not doing anything about it. But that's his business. And Bucky's. They need more time to figure things out. "We've already discussed it. It's fine."

"Okay, good," he agrees.

He bumps her shoulder and she nearly falls from the shock of it, and then she bumps him back and laughs. "You're a bigger mess than anyone knows, aren't you, Rogers?"

"Oh, definitely, but you're sworn to secrecy now. You can't ever reveal the truth."

"Hmmm, can I blackmail you?"

Steve snorts. "Sure, what would you like?"

"A pony. Aaaand ice cream."

"Oh, that's too easy," scoffs Steve. "Are you sure you don't want to ask for, like, an island, or something?"

Becca narrows her eyes. "Do you own a private island?"

"Me? No," scoffs Steve.

"Thank g—"

"Tony does, though."

" _This_ is why I can't take any of you seriously!" cries Becca, throwing up her hands.

"Is he being obscenely rich again?" asks Bucky, trotting over to catch up with them.

"Hey, no," argues Steve, his brow wrinkling. "Not me! Tony. And Tony is, like, a special case. He is deeply out of touch, but he knows that, so he overcompensates to make up for it. You know, you've met him."

"Yeah," says Bucky. "You're still all really, really rich, though, and you act like it isn't even a thing anymore."

"Am I supposed to pretend like it's a shock, every time I get to...fly first class, or I admit I don't have to ever wait in line for anything?"

"It might help!" cries Bucky.

"When I came home the other day, you were having JARVIS order you freshly baked cookies from a place in upstate New York that doesn't do delivery for anyone but me," says Steve. "I think you're becoming desensitized to it, too."

"I was doing that because it's so messed up!" protests Bucky.

"Oh, it was protest cookies. I see. It all makes sense now," says Steve solemnly. "The more cookies you eat, the more you'll bring the system to its knees. Listen, capitalism is terrible. It really is, and I think they should raise taxes on the filthy rich. We'd still be filthy rich. In the meantime, I donate 50% of everything I take home after taxes. That's the best I can do. There's no ethical consumption under capitalism."

Steve's not wrong. It's still insane. "I mean, yes, you're right. It still blows our minds."

"Yeah, that's fair."

"Are you three back here talking finance and politics? On vacation?" Natasha joins them. "Not allowed. Illegal. Come on, we're gonna stop and get shave ice from a local place. I've been talking to the guide about it. He says it's the best place on the island."

So they get in the car and then head a little out of the way to a place that's not crawling with tourists and pick up shave ice, which is incredible. Natasha sits next to her and steals spoonfuls to try her flavors too.

It feels a lot like they're on a double date, because Becca can see Bucky cuddled up next to Steve letting Steve feed him a spoonful of whatever he got, and it's—

UGH. Ridiculous. Becca is having a great time, but she wishes she could turn off the part of her brain that takes every little interaction and flips it back around to tell her exactly how wrong she is to make this fling with Natasha something it isn't going to be. They kissed a bit! They've flirted! That's it.

They get back to the hotel in time for dinner, and in a rush of melancholy, Becca begs off eating with the others, pretending she has a headache and she's going to nap it off. Bucky takes a little bit of effort to brush off, but in the end he accepts her excuse and she goes up to her room, showers off all the sunscreen and sweat from the day, and retires to bed with a book.

She's been reading for about an hour when her phone buzzes. She'd exchanged numbers with Natasha on the first day, ostensibly for planning and itinerary purposes, but they hadn't had cause to text each other yet.

 **Natasha** : up for some company?

Becca stares at the message, biting her lip.

 **Becca** : Sorry, don't think so  
**Natasha** : poor you  
**Natasha** : want anything?  
**Becca** : you could call me  
**Natasha** : oh?  
**Becca** : lull me to sleep with that smoky voice ;)

There's the little typing indicator for a few seconds, and then it disappears. Becca bites her lip, thinking she's blown it somehow, but then her phone buzzes in her hand.

"Hello?"

"Hi there," says Natasha, that voice curling around her. "How's your head?"

"Better, I think, just taking it easy." She sets her book aside and stretches out in the fresh sheets, snuggling down.

"In bed?" asks Natasha. "Got everything you need?"

"Yes, I think so," she sighs. God, just listening to Natasha is enough to get her going. That woman has the voice of some kind of sex goddess or a siren, sent specifically to destroy Becca's willpower. Her free hand comes up, brushing a thumb over her nipple, replaying in her head when Natasha did the same thing last night.

"Mmm, well, if you don't need me to come tuck you in, what do you need?"

Becca shivers at her tone, direct and sultry. "Told you, just...wanted help getting to sleep. Thought maybe you could talk to me, relax me. I like your voice."

"Is that so? And what do you imagine it telling you, Becca?"

Fuck. Natasha's managed to somehow sound both...neutral and commanding, expectant like a principal. Becca's hand pushes down now, sliding under the band of her underwear, fingertips grazing over her clit. Her voice shakes when she answers, "N-nothing."

"No?" Natasha sounds amused. "You don't have anything in mind?"

God, they're not in the same room and Becca only has Natasha's voice to go on, but she can feel the sharp gaze Natasha would be pinning her with if they were together. It sends a little electric frisson of arousal bursting up her spine, and she gives in to her desire, arching her hips up a little and gliding two fingers flat over her clit. "It honestly doesn't even matter what you say," Becca admits, only half lying. "You could read me the phone book and I'd probably get off on it."

"Oh, but is that what you want, sweet thing?" murmurs Natasha. "You want to get yourself off to my voice?"

"N-no, I...I didn't mean..." But Becca bites her lip, closing her eyes and wishing she had both hands free. Why didn't she think this through?

"I think you did mean," Natasha says firmly. "I think you know exactly what you're doing. You're the kind of girl that knows what she wants, Becca."

"So if I told you that I was already touching myself," breathes Becca. "That would be okay?"

"More than okay," chuckles Natasha. "I hear a good orgasm is very good for headaches."

"I think that's period cramps," Becca says.

"Well, it can't hurt to try," murmurs Natasha. "Tell me what you're doing exactly."

"Bossy."

"Yes. That a problem?" Natasha doesn't sound concerned that it might be.

God. "No," she admits, fingers circling her clit in a slow, idle rhythm.

Natasha sounds amused again when she repeats, "Then tell me what you're doing, Becca."

"I'm laying in bed, one hand is holding the phone to my ear, and the other..." She bites her lip. She's never had phone sex before, and while she's never been shy in bed, she's never been very good at dirty talk. "The other is pushed inside my underwear. And I've got two fingers, circling my clit."

"Mmm, are you wet?"

"Getting there, yeah," she groans.

"Do you like fingers in your sweet little cunt?" asks Natasha.

"Oh god." Becca bites her lip at the sharp ache of arousal that sweeps through her at Natasha's filthy words. "Yeah."

"Then leave your clit alone for now. I want you to push a single finger inside yourself, nice and slow, again and again."

"O-okay," gasps Becca. "I am."

"Good, that's so good. Are you pretending it's me?"

"Yes!"

"That's it, just listen to my voice and close your eyes, angel, keep thinking of me and just go slow," murmurs Natasha, and closing her eyes makes it ten times better, wraps Becca up neatly in her voice like she's there, kneeling over her on the bed.

She really wants her to be. She can't remember why she's decided to play hard to get, why she didn't let Natasha come over when she so clearly wanted to, but...

This is good. This is fine. She slides one finger in and out, like Natasha told her to, until the tease of it is unbearable, she's so hot and aroused that the motion of it makes an obscene little noise with all the slick of it and she whines a little. "What do you want me to do next?"

"Oh, you want me to keep going?" Natasha sounds like she's raising an eyebrow. Becca can picture the playfulness on her face. "That's not enough?"

"No!" cries Becca.

"So needy," chides Natasha. "Do you need another finger?"

"God, yes!" Becca arches her hips up a little, trembling with tension and effort, gasping.

"Hmm. That's not very polite," says Natasha. "What do you say when you want someone to give you something? Do you just demand it?"

Oh my god, Natasha is a tiny little demon. Becca makes a frustrated sound. She could just...use two fingers on herself! She could do that and Natasha wouldn't know! She could touch her clit, and... She's not going to do any of that. "I say ‘please’," she whispers helplessly.

"Mmhmm? And?"

Becca bites her lip. "Please can I have another finger?"

"Yes, you may," says Natasha. "Nice and slow for me."

Becca moans as she slides a second finger in, clenching around them, everything wet and slick now, messy with how much she wants this.

"Good, there you go, you see what you get when you're polite for me? Feels good, doesn't it?" Natasha's voice is somehow rougher, huskier. She's gonna kill Becca, just by speaking to her.

"Yes," she whispers, breath hitching. "Feels so good, I'm—I'm so wet."

"That's good, kitten, you're being so good for me," murmurs Natasha. "I bet you taste good too."

"Ohhh," gasps Becca, struggling to keep her pace slow, wanting more, wanting it faster.

"Why don't you taste for me, hmm?"

Becca groans to be taking her hand away from herself, she's dying, but she does as she's told, compelled to listen to Natasha's voice. She sucks her fingers in, the taste sharp and distinct, a little sweet. She gets distracted for a moment, sucking on her fingers, dazed by knowing Natasha told her to do this.

"Tell me, do you taste as good as I think?" commands Natasha.

Becca's fingers slip out of her mouth as she nods, remembering she has to speak. "Yes. I— may I put them back inside me, please?"

Natasha laughs, low and sultry. "Yes, you may. Do you want to come, Becca?"

"God, yes, I do. Wanna come with you—you telling me how."

"Such a good girl," Natasha praises. "Have you ever done this before? Phone sex?"

"N-no," admits Becca, her cheeks hot. "I'm not very good at...at the talking part."

"Well, maybe you just didn't have the right partner, because I think you're doing a great job," says Natasha. Becca wants to hide her face, roll over and bury herself in the blankets with how much she needs that voice to tell her what a good job she's doing.

"Th-thank you," she whimpers, sniffling a little. She wants to come so bad, wants to go a little deeper, faster, she wants to be allowed to touch her clit again.

"Becca, honey, can you come on just fingers?"

"N-not really," says Becca. "It feels good, but it's not enough for me to come."

"Then while you're fucking yourself on your fingers—you can go a little faster now—use your thumb to rub right where you want it, because I know you do. You're just desperate, aren't you? Hot and slick and throbbing—"

Becca sobs, a flood of arousal hot between her legs as she tightens up around her fingers, crooking her thumb against her swollen clit.

"Is that good?" asks Natasha. Other than sounding just a little out of breath, she is otherwise composed. How the fuck? She's unreal.

"So good," says Becca, gasping. "Oh, god, can I go a little faster?"

"What do you say when you want something?"

"Please!" cries Becca, her eyes prickling with heat. She's—never felt like this during sex before, so on edge, she's never felt like crying, but Natasha is dangling her over the precipice of her orgasm like a cat with a mouse. "Please, please, Natasha, please can I go a little faster? I'm so close."

"Wait, just a little longer, wait—" she breaks off with a little gasp, the first crack in her cool, composed exterior, groaning in Becca's ear.

"Oh my god," she sobs, tears finally slipping down her cheeks as she keeps going at the torturous pace, back arching. Did Natasha just come, while making Becca wait? "Natasha, please, please!"

Natasha sighs, and when she speaks again, her voice is back in complete control. "Okay, kitten, go ahead. Make yourself come for me."

Becca rubs harder, faster, and very suddenly spills over, her whole body spasming with the force of her orgasm as she cries out.

Nothing feels real for long moments, her body shaking, her own panting breath the only thing she can hear.

"Becca, let me hear you. You with me?" asks Natasha.

Becca groans, taking a breath. "W-what... how did you do that to me over the phone?"

Natasha chuckles. "Just think how much fun we'll have when you finally spend the night with me."

"That's...that's presumptuous," breathes Becca, because she is still playing a game, goddammit, and even though Natasha just talked her through an orgasm, Becca isn't ready to admit defeat.

"Mm, of course," chuckles Natasha. "I would never assume. But that's an incentive for you. If that's what I can do for you over the phone, feel free to extrapolate what it will be like if I can touch you."

"Oh my god," Becca groans, exhausted. "Point taken."

"Put yourself to bed, now," says Natasha, firm. "Sleep off that...headache, if you've still got it. Tomorrow's another day, and it's time for good girls like you to get some sleep."

Becca flushes, squirming a little at how Natasha's voice, her words, just sink deep into the back of Becca's skull and completely turn her inside out.

"Okay," she says meekly. "Thank you."

"Sleep tight," murmurs Natasha, before she hangs up.

For a while, Becca can't move at all. She's still catching her breath, heavy with fatigue, and she drops the phone into the pillows and stretches luxuriously.

In the morning, she wakes up and realizes with a start that she dropped off without plugging in her phone and her underwear is a little unpleasantly sticky. It doesn't matter. It was worth it. She plugs in her phone and drags herself out of bed for a shower. She texts Bucky, telling him she's going down to the cabana to eat, and she puts on her sluttiest bikini and a loose, totally sheer caftan over it.

She's lying on a deckchair in the shade, wearing her sunglasses and eating fresh pineapple, when Bucky appears, looking sleepy-eyed as he plops down in the chair next to her.

"Feel better today?" he asks, pouring himself coffee from the pot on the little table between their chairs.

"Oh, yeah," she says. "I just needed an early night."

Bucky yawns. "Wish I'd done the same. I think I'm gonna need a nap."

"You just woke up!" laughs Becca. "I'd ask why you're so tired but I have a feeling I don't want to know."

Bucky _hmphs_ and plops down in the chair next to her, sipping on his coffee. "What's on the agenda today?"

"I think today is just beach, maybe some exploring in town again if you want. The millionaires have the conference all day." She pops a fresh strawberry in her mouth and chews. "There's snorkeling lessons at one if you want to go check that out."

Bucky grunts, reaching for a croissant. "Yeah."

"God, you're the most ridiculous person in the morning."

"Whatever! Stop judging me." There's a slight whine to Bucky's voice so she lets it drop, biting back a laugh. He's such a baby.

They chill in the cabana for awhile, until Bucky is more functional, and then they go down to the beach and splash around a bit, walking back to lay on the chairs near their cabana that are in the sun, soaking in the morning light. They do that for awhile, alternating back and forth between sunshine and shade.

At 11, Bucky gets a text that makes him turn bright red. "Um, Steve has...a uh, lunch break. So...I'm gonna go eat with him, in the room. Room service."

Becca rolls her eyes. "Oh my god, go. Don't tell me anything else."

Bucky picks up his t-shirt, struggling into it as he races off.

Becca sighs and settles back in, thinking that she'd like something fancy for lunch, some kind of seafood platter, maybe. Natasha doesn't engage over the lunch hour, which isn't...a disappointment, exactly, because she wasn't expecting anything until Steve texted Bucky for whatever sin they're committing, but it's a weird little feeling to check her phone and see if Natasha said anything and find nothing.

Still. She orders herself oysters and scallops and caviar and enjoys that on her own, then gets a giant pineapple cocktail, and enjoys that, too.

Almost exactly an hour later, Bucky returns. He's walking gingerly, which Becca does not want to think about, and he's a bit flushed and mussed in a way that makes it very obvious why Steve summoned him.

He orders a drink and then settles very, very carefully onto his deckchair, lowering himself down with his hand braced on the armrest.

"So, snorkeling?" asks Becca, checking the time on her phone. They have plenty of time if they want to go.

"Um," says Bucky, thanking the staff member that brings him his drink. He colors a little, frowning at his glass as he takes a big sip. "Maybe snorkeling tomorrow?"

"I don't want to ask, do I?" laughs Becca.

"Nope," mumbles Bucky, clearly embarrassed.

"Fine," says Becca. "I'm comfy here, anyway. We can just have a chill day, swim and sunbathe."

"Perfect," sighs Bucky.

They doze in the shade for awhile, listening to the sound of the ocean. Close to 4, they walk back down the beach and wade out into the tide. Bucky looks a little uncomfortable but relaxes after a while.

"Hey, when we get back...do you want to meet my parents? I mean...you know, my adoptive ones?" asks Becca suddenly. She's been trying to figure out how to work her way up to asking for a while, but maybe blurting it out is for the best.

"Uh," says Bucky, looking a little stunned. "Do they want to meet me?"

"Of course they do! They're...really curious about you, but I think they feel guilty, actually. And they know you're important to me."

Bucky looks a lot like he's carefully planning what he's about to say and Becca braces herself for him to refuse. And she'd be okay with that, if he didn't think he could do it. Bucky's had a lot of upheaval in his life, and what space he has in this world, he's carved out for himself. If it's too much for him to confront this, she'll be okay with it.

"I would love to meet the people that got to raise you," Bucky says slowly. And god—Becca thought she was emotional until she met Bucky, who gets choked up an average of twice a day. "I'm really overwhelmed by the idea that you'd want to introduce me to them."

"Great," says Becca, smiling warmly, deeply relieved. "We don't have to rush it, or set a date, I promise. I just want you to know you're welcome and they said it would be nice to have you over for dinner."

"Alright," says Bucky, wiping at his eyes a bit. He gives her a watery smile and she pulls him in for a hug, which he gladly gives.

"Awesome, so...where do you think we're going for dinner tonight? Steve said he'd take care of reservations. I hope it's some place that costs at least $100 a plate so we can be shocked and appalled while he lectures us about the woes of capitalism."

Bucky snorts. "All while eating the hell out of that $100 plate, huh?"

"Well, we can't let it go to waste. That would be even worse." She grins at him and he rolls his eyes, so she splashes him in the face.

"Hey!" He splashes her back.

Then it's chaos for awhile as they tussle in the ocean until a piercing whistle grabs their attention. They freeze and look up and see Natasha standing barefoot on the beach, still in her business wear. "You two done? Time to get ready!"

Becca's cheeks burn at being called in like an errant child, but she wades with Bucky through the water and back up to the beach. Natasha lifts an eyebrow at her and Becca smirks, grabbing the nearest towel and vigorously toweling her hair dry. Droplets fly everywhere and Natasha makes a startled sound.

When Becca looks up, Natasha doesn't have a discernible expression on her face, but her plush lips are pursed and she wipes a bit of water from her cheek.

"Like a pair of puppies," she says pointedly, glancing at Bucky, who, once again, goes red. "Come on. Steve has plans and you both need time to get ready." She turns away and heads back to the hotel, with Becca and Bucky trailing guiltily after her.

Becca doesn't know why she feels like she's on her way to the principal's office, but she does. Bucky has covered his own head with a towel, scrubbing at his hair and very deliberately not looking at Becca.

"Dress code?" asks Becca, before they all disperse into their own rooms, Bucky hurrying inside and leaving Becca and Natasha in the hallway.

"Oh, smart casual, I'd say," murmurs Natasha. She crosses her arms, looking Becca up and down. The little droplets of water have already dried on Natasha's suit.

Becca revises her statement. "What would you like me to wear?"

Natasha smirks. "If this is to make up for your little game back there, it won't work. I'm still going to get you back." She pauses. "A sundress, did you bring one?"

Becca nods.

"That, then. Those wedge heels you wore the other day. And....no underwear."

Becca's breath catches. "Oh."

Natasha steps forward, a finger tracing up Becca's arm, over her still-damp skin. "Mmm, is that a yes?"

"Yes," she whispers, voice gone hoarse. She's frozen in place, Natasha's touch immobilizing her without effort.

"That's a start," murmurs Natasha, leaning even closer, until she ducks to the side and her lips brush Becca's ear. "But in the future, when I give you instructions, I'd just love to hear a little more respect in your answer. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she breathes out, wondering if she's lost her mind. "I mean, um, yes, ma'am."

"Good girl." Natasha's lips brush her jaw and then she steps back. "Better hurry up. I'll be back to escort you to dinner in an hour."

Becca nods, unable to form another word, and turns, fumbling with the key for a moment before she's able to get inside. She leans against the door when she closes it behind her, letting out a shaky breath. She feels slick and overheated already. What the fuck.

She's so fucking confused. Becca is definitely attracted to Natasha; she's beautiful and powerful and amazing, but Becca doesn't know how to _do_ this kind of thing. She feels stupid, unprepared. She's never played power games like this, never done more than a little light hair pulling, really. But god help her, she loves the way Natasha makes her feel.

Pushing away from the door, she stumbles to the bathroom and strips out of her salty bathing suit, dumping it into the sink to deal with later. She turns the luxurious shower on full blast and climbs in. She'd better be squeaky clean if she's supposed to run around without underwear on tonight.

She's still very smooth, her legs not even stubbling yet, and she carefully washes and conditions her hair.

Her shower takes longer than she expected, so she doesn't even have time to worry about how she's not wearing underwear. Just towel dries her hair, wearing it in long waves, throws on some mascara, blush, and lip gloss, and puts in the little opal earrings she bought in the town the day before yesterday.

She's just grabbing her wedges when there's a knock on her door. She runs over and opens it, turning before she even looks at Natasha. "I have to put on my shoes still. Sorry!"

When she sits down, Natasha stands over her. "Allow me," she says, taking one of the heels, and, easy as anything, she sinks to her knees in front of Becca.

Becca's entire brain logs off. She freezes, mouth dry, gaping at Natasha as she slides one heel on Becca's foot and then delicately does up the ribbon at her ankle. Natasha's hands slide up Becca's smooth calf, before switching to the other leg. 

"You have such beautiful legs, kitten," murmurs Natasha, setting Natasha's foot on the floor once her heel is on, head ducked, red curls falling around her face as she laces it up. "All of you is beautiful, but these legs..."

Becca has to say something. It's her turn to speak. She can't just sit here and stare at Natasha! "Thank you," she whispers, voice hoarse. 

Natasha straightens up, Becca tracking her movement, and takes Natasha's proffered hand to stand up herself. 

"Don't want to be late," says Natasha. 

Becca follows her down in a haze. She doesn't really take in where they're going, but she does vaguely register that it's not to get a car into town to go to a restaurant. It's a path lit by torches, winding down to the beach, and they stop for a bit to wait for Steve and Bucky to catch up. 

Bucky looks loose and relaxed, grinning shyly at Steve when Steve brushes some hair out of his face. 

"Okay," says Steve after a moment. "I think they're ready for us."

Are they going to some kind of fancy beach restaurant? The sun is setting slowly, and the sky burns orange as a soft breeze ruffles Becca's dress. 

As they round the corner, it's to a small patch of beach lit up with candles and lights, a fire burning in the middle of it. There are some small tables set up, overflowing with food and drinks, and music drifts over them. 

"Happy birthday," says Steve, turning to her and Bucky. "To you both. I know you didn't get to spend your first birthday together actually _together_ so I thought we could celebrate with our own private party."

Becca’s breath catches. She looks back out at the beautiful arrangements, suddenly blinking back tears. Steve did this for them, for Bucky mostly, but…. He included Becca, made sure it wasn’t overlooked, their ability to celebrate together. 

Bucky’s hand finds hers and she squeezes back as she turns to him. He has tears shining in his eyes (of course) but he looks happy. Becca glances at Steve, who has eyes only for Bucky, soft and so full of love that Becca feels choked up all over again. Wow, these idiots. 

"Thank you so much, Steve," she says. "This means a lot."

He lifts his gaze from Bucky and smiles at her. "You’re welcome. Happy birthday."

Bucky turns away from Becca now to fling himself at Steve for a hug, which Steve seems very happy to provide. 

"So you like it?" murmurs Natasha at her side. 

"Yeah," breathes Becca. She smiles at Natasha. "It’s wonderful."

"Steve worked very hard on it. He didn’t shut up up for a week." Natasha grins. 

"If Bucky doesn’t figure this out..." she hisses, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, you gonna dance with me again?"

"If you ask nicely," teases Natasha. Natasha loops their arms together and guides Becca to the dancefloor as Steve does the same with Bucky.

Part of Becca is so deeply grateful that when she has no idea what to do in this intense flirtation, she can rely on the fact that Natasha will take over. She likes the reassurance, likes knowing that when Natasha puts her arms around her, she's going to lead. 

Becca can just relax and turn her brain off. Natasha is confident and graceful, she doesn't complain about Becca's height and she's so _strong_. Becca feels loose, easy, she's not self conscious even as the breeze tickles her bare skin under her dress. They sway and waltz and Becca sighs. 

Bucky isn't even really dancing with Steve. He's thrown both arms around Steve's neck and his face is buried in his shoulder and they're kind of swaying on the spot as Steve talks low in his ear. It would be kind of nice if Becca could do that with Natasha, but she thinks this is better. Held firm in Natasha's hands. 

The sun keeps setting, burning low on the horizon, and as the temperature drops, they start to feel the warmth of the fire more and more. 

They break off from dancing to pick at all the food, while Natasha starts to mix drinks for everyone. Becca and Bucky spend time together, making s'mores over the fire and getting chocolate and marshmallow all over their faces while they take more selfies to post to Instagram. 

They're all sprawled on towels on the sand, drunk and full, Steve with Bucky in his lap, arms around him, and Natasha leaning into Becca's shoulder, when Steve says, "Oh, time to look up."

When they do, curious, the sky bursts into light as fireworks erupt, an entire rainbow of color painting the darkness. 

Becca sucks in a breath, eyes watering again. 

"Okay," she mumbles to Natasha. "Maybe being spoiled by rich people is kind of great."

Natasha laughs, turning to look up at Becca. She reaches up, tangling her hand in Becca’s hair and drawing her down for a kiss. "Come back to my room with me tonight."

It’s not exactly a command but it’s not exactly a question, either. Becca shivers, looking at Natasha. She’s beautiful and sexy and smart and she’s played Becca’s game with patience and determination. 

And as she sits here in her dress with no underwear on at Natasha’s instructions, Becca’s not sure what she’s waiting for anymore. "Yeah, okay."

Natasha smiles at her and draws her down for another quick kiss. Finally, she stands and dusts herself off of any stray sand and offers her hand to Becca, pulling her to her feet too. "Steve, thank you for an amazing dinner. The fireworks were beautiful."

Steve looks up from where he’s slowly leaving a trail of marks across Bucky’s neck. Bucky looks checked out with pleasure and Becca looks away quickly. "Thanks for joining us, Nat. Becca, Happy birthday."

"Thanks," she mumbles, still avoiding looking directly at them as she gathers her shoes that she discarded ages ago. "See you in the morning, Bucky. Love you."

"Yeah," rasps Bucky. "Night."

Becca allows herself to be guided away from the beach, her skin feeling warm despite the cool breeze. Natasha’s palm on the small of her back is like a brand. 

They’re quiet for the whole walk back, the tension mounting as they approach the hotel and ride up the elevator. At Natasha’s door, she pauses and looks at Becca. "If you’ve changed your mind, I would understand. I don’t want you to regret this in the morning, kitten."

Becca shakes her head quickly. The walk has helped to clear her head and she’s even more sure. She wants this. Needs this. She needs Natasha to do something about how fucking wet and needy she feels. "I’m sure. I want to come in."

"Okay," says Natasha. She opens the door and leads Becca in.

Natasha's room is basically a mirror of Becca's. For a second, Becca pauses at the door, back up against it, watching Natasha confidently stride in, heading for the enormous king-sized bed. She is making a show of it, discarding her heels and then deftly grasping her slinky dress by the hem and stripping it off over her head in one motion. 

"Oh my god," whispers Becca, licking dry lips. 

Natasha is wearing underwear, a matching lacy black set, but it's the kind of underwear that's entirely form, not function. The panties are cut up high on the hips and most of her perfect ass is hanging out. Becca wants to take them off her with her teeth. 

Then Natasha turns around, crooking a finger at Becca. "What are you doing over there? Come here, Becca."

Becca squeaks, her eyes locked on Natasha's gorgeous tits, before she remembers herself and drags her gaze up to Natasha's face. She follows the motion of Natasha's encouraging finger, stopping just in front of her helplessly. "You're so perfect," she breathes. 

"You say such sweet things," murmurs Natasha. Her full lips quirk in a coy little smile. When she reaches out for Becca, she splays her hand on Becca's exposed thigh, then glides right up under her dress, fingers curling around Becca's hip. Not quite touching her as intimately as she could be, but pretty damn close. "And what a good girl you are. Very good at following instructions."

Becca shivers. "I, um," she says, breath hitching. She's not this person, she's not awkward! "Thanks."

Smooth.

Natasha lets out a low, throaty chuckle, deep and scratchy. Becca's knees want to give out and she feels shaky standing here in front of Natasha, who is older and more experienced, who seems relaxed and confident, unbothered by being shorter or more exposed or any of it. Becca's heart pounds as Natasha's thumb brushes against her hip. 

"Becca," begins Nat, her sharp green eyes fixed on Becca's. "Do you like being a good girl for me?"

Becca's stomach flips pleasantly, heat pooling at her core. "Yeah."

Natasha hums, her other hand coming up to brush over Becca's bare shoulder, fingertips dragging down her arm raising goosebumps in their wake. "I like it, too. I like...being in charge of good girls, teaching them, rewarding them..."

A wave of dizziness passes over Becca, lightheaded with the sudden peak of her arousal. Her eyes flutter and she sways, but Natasha holds her steady, strong arms keeping her from falling. Becca knows what BDSM is, has been curious as long as she's been having sex, but she's never had it offered to her like this. Fuck, she's never had it offered to her at all. It's always been something she's been too self-conscious to ask for, especially in such clear terms.

Natasha is in charge. Natasha wants to be in charge. She's not doing Becca a favor, she's not going to halfass her way through pulling Becca's hair or slapping her ass. She's going to demand that Becca be a good girl and she's going to _enforce_ it.

"Please," she whispers, trembling.

"Please, what?" asks Natasha frankly. She raises an eyebrow and Becca's stomach drops a little at the idea that she's not performing to Natasha's expectations already. She just got here. She's been waiting for this! 

"Please, ma'am," she croaks, hurriedly trying to figure out how to do it right. "Please, I want you to be in charge of me."

The delight that filters into Natasha's expression sweeps relief through Becca like cool rain after a hot summer day. "Oh, very good. You really want this, don't you? You want to be good and you're desperate not to fail."

Becca nods eagerly. She's fixed in place by Natasha's green eyes, the thumb brushing softly over her skin, the hand on her hip. 

"Okay, sweet thing," says Natasha. Her other hand sweeps up Becca's other side, rucking up her dress to her waist. "Arms up."

Becca obeys with a start, ducking down so that Natasha can strip her out of her little sundress. Natasha tosses it aside and then steps right into Becca's naked body, hands cupping her jaw and dragging her down for a hot, sweet kiss, firm and reassuring. 

"No bra, either?" Natasha teases as she pulls away, one hand sliding down to tweak Becca's nipple. "You're very conscientious."

Becca's face heats up, shivering as Natasha rolls her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. She could babble about it, explain how her sundress has a built-in bra, how she wasn't sure if 'underwear' meant bra and panties or just panties, but Natasha seems happy about it, so why speak? Why ruin the praise? She just closes her eyes and nods, squirming a little. 

Then Natasha does the worst thing possible. She lets go of Becca and steps away. 

Becca makes an involuntary noise, opening her eyes to find that Natasha is— 

God, kneeling on the bed, looking at Becca over her shoulder. Still in that barely-there lingerie set, Becca's mouth watering just looking at it. She wants to shove her face between Natasha's strong thighs. She is so incredibly gay. Fuck. 

"Why don't you join me, kitten," suggests Natasha. She crawls to the head of the bed and settles there, putting a hand on the pillows. "Come up here."

Becca nods jerkily. If she starts at the end of the bed and crawls, she doubts she can make it look as hot and effortless as Natasha looks, so she skirts the side of the bed and climbs in from there, heat prickling her skin as she settles on her knees next to Natasha. Giving Becca a full-body once over that has weight to it, Natasha puts one hand on Becca's shoulder, pushing her flat as she straddles Becca's hips.

"Hngh," chokes Becca, bucking up into the pressure of Natasha's body, arousal throbbing between her legs. 

Natasha chuckles. "You like a show of force, huh?"

"I've seen you work out," Becca says thinly, wide-eyed. "I feel like you could bench press me very easily."

"Saw you watching," laughs Natasha. "You certainly gave me a chase, didn't you?"

Warmth fills Becca's cheeks and she has the wild desire to apologize. She bites her lip instead, nodding. 

Natasha leans forward, catching Becca's mouth in a kiss again, fingers brushing the side of her face to tip her head back. "That was very cute, kitten."

And god, the way Natasha says it, it's like she’s calling Becca a naughty little kitten, an errant child thinking she could challenge an adult. "I—I just didn't—" she squirms, blinking quickly, and her voice sounds small as she admits, "I just didn't want you to think I was for sale."

She feels guilty as the words slip past her lips, but it's true and she knows it. As much as she tries to respect the choices that Bucky has made, the...arrangement he has with Steve, it's not what she wants. She can do casual, she can do just for fun, but whatever she chooses to give to Natasha isn't for any reason other than she _wants_ it.

"Mmm, no, and I don't want that sort of exchange anyway," agrees Natasha, playing with a piece of Becca's hair, twirling it around her slender, delicate fingers. "This is for fun, Becca, because we enjoy each other. The sort of exchange I want is purely physical and emotional—I want you to trust me to give you something special. Do you think you can do that?"

Becca licks her lips. "Yes, I trust you. You're very... You make me feel safe."

"Good, that's good. And I trust you too, Becca. Because I know you'll tell me if I do something you don't want. That's how this works."

Becca nods. "I know, I've...I've read about it, and I have a friend who, um, who does this stuff with her boyfriend."

"Is your friend the domme or the sub?"

"Domme, usually, but I think they, um, they switch," she says, hoping she doesn't sound terribly naïve, like she has no idea what she's talking about. 

"Have you talked to Bucky about his experiences?" asks Natasha, her hands continuing to move soothingly, touching Becca's shoulder, rubbing her arm, while the other plays gently with her hair. 

Becca shakes her head sharply. "No, that's not...we don't really like to discuss that kind of thing with each other. It's awkward."

"That's understandable." Natasha nods, giving her a small smile. "I won't bring him up again."

"Thanks," she breathes, relieved.

"I'm not going to do anything extreme," says Natasha. Her voice is so husky and soft, and Becca doesn't exactly have to strain to hear it, but it's at the kind of low volume that demands Becca listen to catch every word. It's commanding Becca's attention without Natasha having to raise it at all. "Just a handful of rules to keep us both on the same page."

Becca nods. She feels like she's balanced on a knife's edge; they've barely touched, but she's wet and flushed, keyed up just by Natasha's voice and body and the steady confidence she projects. Each tiny caress feels like an electric shock to her system, keeping her relentlessly turned on. 

"I'm not going to physically restrain you, but I expect you to stay where I put you," says Natasha. Her eyes are burning, fixed on Becca's face. "I expect answers to my questions. If you want something, you will address me as ma'am or Natasha when you beg. If you don't, I'll correct you. Mistakes will cost you instant gratification." Natasha smiles. "I can make this last a very long time."

"What if I'm good, ma'am?" breathes Becca. 

"Good girls get rewards." Natasha echoes her words from earlier. "If you need me to stop, for any reason, at any time, you will say 'red'. That leaves you free to pretend to deny your desire as much as you want."

"Red for stop," repeats Becca, licking her lips. 

"Good girl. Has anyone ever given you what you want before?"

"Um," Becca hesitates. "I guess? But I never felt like I could ask for more than....a slap on the ass or for someone to pull my hair. I'm usually bigger and taller than the girls I date. They won't hold me down or pin my wrists or..." She's flushing furiously, now, but Natasha's expression hasn't changed. "I never asked because I thought they'd get freaked out."

"Noted," says Natasha. "Do you have anything else I need to know? Or any more questions?"

Becca shakes her head. "I don't think so. What about you?"

"How considerate of you to ask," says Natasha. "I don't enjoy penetration, but I'm happy to give it. You enjoyed fingering yourself the other night, didn’t you? You’ll enjoy more?"

"Oh," says Becca, her eyes widening. She can feel her pulse throbbing between her legs just at the thought of Natasha putting her fingers inside her. "Yeah. I will. I really like it."

"That's good to know." Natasha tangles her fingers more firmly in Becca's hair, pulling tightly. Her scalp stings and she gasps, arching her head back and exposing her throat. Natasha's other hand moves up, gliding over her skin until it settles warm and secure over her throat. There's no pressure but Becca finds it hard to breathe anyway. "How much do you like it, hmm? Have you asked one of the women you've been with to fuck you with their fingers? With toys?"

"Both," she groans, clutching at the sheets, clenching her legs together as desire blazes through her.

"What about...their hands? Have you opened up for someone's fist before, Becca? Stretched around their wrist, achy and full?" Her voice feels like a physical touch, dragging over her body.

Becca's nipples tighten, her cunt aches, and she can feel it dripping already. She shakes her head.

Natasha tugs on her hair sharply. "Where's my polite good girl? Answer me properly, Becca."

Becca moans. "No, ma'am! I've never!"

"That's better," purrs Natasha. She releases Becca's throat, then teases down between Becca's legs, two fingers tapping expectantly at where Becca's thighs are pressed tightly together.

Parting her legs with a whimper, Becca savors the pull on her scalp, the warmth building up as arousal floods her body. Natasha wants to fist her? God. Becca's no stranger to using her own fingers or big toys, likes the pressure and stretch of it, the weighty sensation of being filled. A fist, though? That would be a different kind of stretch, wouldn't it? Still. Natasha's got small, slim hands. She thinks of her fist inside her, sinking in to her wrist, and arches again as Natasha slips her fingers between Becca's slick thighs. 

"We won't start there, though," says Natasha. "I want you to reach up and hold onto the headboard with both hands. Under no circumstances are you allowed to let go or touch me, unless you need to use your safeword. Understood?"

"Y-yes, ma'am," groans Becca. She lifts her arms, curling her fingers into the top bar of the headboard and holding on tightly. 

"Good girl." Natasha rises, scooting further down the bed. She pushes Becca's thighs apart with both hands, getting down onto her belly. Her head is right between Becca's thighs, breath tickling at her vulva. Becca tenses briefly, but Natasha encourages her to rest her legs over her shoulders, propped up easily on her elbows. "You've been wet for me for ages, haven't you?" says Natasha. For the first time, she sounds a bit breathless, affected by this, too. 

"Yes, ma'am," admits Becca. 

"I've been dying to get a taste of this sweet cunt," Natasha murmurs, those words and her heady tone sinking deep in the back of Becca's brain. She whines, angling her hips up a bit, and then Natasha cups Becca's ass in her hands and then kisses Becca right over her clit.

Becca moans, fingers digging into the headboard, holding on as if she might fly away if she doesn't. Natasha is between her legs, Natasha's mouth is on her—no matter how many times she's had this, had a beautiful girl giving her head, sucking her clit, it never gets old, it’s never anything less than thrilling. She can feel more slick gush out as she bears down, a shiver rolling over her whole body. 

"Oh, what an eager girl," murmurs Natasha, as if Becca is doing a cute trick. 

"Yes, ma'am!" she whimpers. "I—please."

"Mmm, and with such good manners, too." Her lips brush against Becca's overheated, damp skin with every word, the barest tease, and Becca might die.

"Natasha, please, please, I'll be good for you, ma'am, I promise," she pleads, her eyes prickling with how badly she wants, _needs_ Natasha to apply more pressure, to make her come.

"Oh, I know, kitten," she mutters, but then her tongue finally flicks out and it slides right over Becca's clit at first, too much, too intense, too fast, and Becca lets out a high pitched sound, squirming.

Natasha only laughs, shifting down to lick right over Becca's dripping opening, sliding over sensitive, delicate skin, but never pushing inside. Becca cries out, hips jerking under Natasha's hold. 

"Don't tease, I need it! I need it, want—want your tongue inside me," she wails, and then shrieks as a quick pinch to the inside of her thigh yanks her back to reality.

"Every time you forget your manners, that's a little bit longer you have to wait for what you want, kitten. I'm very patient, Becca. I can tease you all night and be just as satisfied at the end when I sit on your pretty face, whether or not I let you come at all."

Oh, god. If Becca doesn't get to come, she'll die, simple as that. "I'm good!" she gasps. "I can be so good for you, I'm sorry, ma'am, I'm sorry. Please!"

Natasha slowly seals her lips over Becca's folds, pressing her tongue flat, not moving or sucking or doing anything other than applying wet pressure. She's humming, though, and it resonates right into Becca's core, making her tense helplessly. She keeps her thighs spread, fighting against the strong urge to clamp down around Natasha's head. She can't be rude, she can't be demanding, Natasha needs her to be a good girl and Becca wants nothing else in the world in this moment. 

Becca tilts her head back, angling her hips, whining loudly because there’s nothing else she can do. Not until Natasha decides to give it to her. 

Natasha's mouth is hot and wet, applying torturous suction as she slowly, teasingly starts to work her tongue into Becca, licking almost lazily inside her. Like she doesn't have a goal, she's just legitimately enjoying how Becca tastes, and, oh, god that sends a rush of arousal through her so strong she flushes with heat from head to toe. "A—ah, god," she whimpers. Can Natasha feel her pulse against her tongue? The way she's so turned on she's throbbing?

Becca feels the tension mounting, tightening inside of her, she's so aroused it's starting to hurt. She just wants relief, she wants to come, but she wants to be good even more, she wants Natasha to _want_ to give her that. Tears burn her eyes, and Becca swears she's not usually this much of a crier.

Big, life altering moments? Sure. But it's never been like this before, never been so easy for someone to twist her up helplessly.

Becca tries to hold it together, but as Natasha drags her mouth up slowly, sucking slick, drenched folds, carefully avoiding Becca's swollen, needy clit, a sob finally breaks free. A fat tear rolls down her temple and she pleads with a broken voice, "Please, please, ma'am, please, may I come? Want to be your good girl, please, ma'am!"

And miraculously, wonderfully, Natasha hums and her lips slide over Becca's clit, her tongue starting a flicking, fluttering pattern, and Becca's not sure if it was all the build up or if Natasha is that fucking good (both, probably) but it's the right rhythm, the right pressure, the right, perfect combination— 

Becca's mouth falls open and no sound comes out as her whole body arches up, tenses in a way that's almost painful until everything uncoils in a cascade of pleasure and she whines as she sucks in a choked breath. Her legs shake, her body shakes as her mind vacates the goddamn premises.

She's barely aware of what's happening until Natasha's husky, throaty voice filters back in, murmuring quietly to her. "There you go, sweet girl, so good, shhhh. That's right, come on back to me."

Becca whimpers, licking her dry lips. "I—I—"

"That's okay, all you need to say is thank you when I give you such a nice reward, kitten."

"Thank you, ma'am," she sighs, still dazed.

Natasha kisses her stomach, just below her belly button, and then her hip, and the inside of her thigh, and then she pushes two fingers inside of her wet, throbbing pussy. "There you go," she murmurs warmly. "Gonna take such good care of my good girl."

Becca can't even speak.

Natasha is such a presence, taking up every brain cell Becca has left after that orgasm. All she can focus on is the low husk of her voice, her red lips and the press of her slim fingers inside her. 

Becca is just a little oversensitive, making a tiny noise as Natasha strokes inside her, crooking her fingers at the knuckle. She can't believe how much she still wants it, wants more, wants anything Natasha is willing to give her in this moment. She's heavy with fatigue, though, so she lets it sink into her tired muscles, sagging back into the bed and groaning helplessly. 

"You okay, sweet thing?" Natasha asks gently. She's plunging her fingers in deep and full, at a lazy pace, unhurried. "Too much?"

"No," breathes Becca, shaking her head. "No, ma'am, it's good, please."

"Hmm," hums Natasha. "What are you begging me for? Do you already want more?"

"Want everything," groans Becca. "Want you inside me, please."

"You want my fingers?"

Becca nods eagerly. 

"You want my hand, my fist, inside your greedy little cunt? Do you think you're ready for that?" Natasha's keen eyes are dark as they fix on Becca's face. "Such a good girl, still so wet for me. But you're a bit tight, sweet thing, and I don't want to hurt you too much. I want you to feel it, but we need to take our time."

Becca makes a high, needy sound. Natasha slides a third finger inside her, angling deep inside and crooking back, brushing the sweet spot that lights Becca up like the fireworks they watched together. She cries out, bucking her hips. It's almost too much, after having an orgasm so recently, but she wants more of it, the stretch of Natasha's hand inside her as she delves deep. 

"Quite the wanton little thing, aren't you, kitten," chuckles Natasha. "So sensitive, too. This feel good?"

"Y-yes," she gasps, nodding. She clutches at the headboard like a lifeline. "Natasha, yes, please! Oh, god. I can take it, I can take more!"

Natasha makes a low, pleased sound, pressing her fingers in deep, twisting them. Her knuckles rub along the soft, stretched opening, working them against the resistance. It stings, hurts, and Becca's breath hitches but she wants it so bad.

"Mmm, think you need to come again, sweet girl, you can do the for me, can't you?" asks Natasha, her other hand petting up her thigh and over her hip, settling low on her stomach. 

"Y-yes, ma'am, please," sighs Becca. 

"Mmm, you need your pretty little clit touched to come, don’t you?" Her hand presses flat over Becca's stomach, a slight pressure, but at the same time she curls her fingers and rubs inside of Becca, working her fingers in quick, firm movements.

Becca can't even form words, the increased pressure from the way Natasha is pressing down, the repeated thrust of her fingers against her g-spot when she's already so sensitive and tender— 

It feels... fuck, it almost feels like she might pee or come or _both_ and she shakes her head, mortified and desperate. She can't do that! She can't…. "Oh! Please, I don't know! But I—I...please, please, ma'am, it feels like—please stop!"

"Do you remember what to say if you need to safeword?" asks Natasha, voice firm and clear.

"Yes," admits Becca, hands aching from holding onto the headboard.

"Is that what you need?" 

"No," she whispers, Natasha's fingers working deep and sure inside of her, again and again, building toward something, overwhelming her. "But I—"

"Then you're just fighting for the sake of it, is that it? Be a good girl, Becca. Just take it." Natasha's voice feels like a slap.

Becca lets out a shocked cry as Natasha increases the pressure of her palm and works her fingers in harder, and suddenly— 

Becca feels the gush of liquid as she comes with a long moan, the walls of her cunt clamping down on Natasha's fingers, clutching at her greedily as she continues to stroke inside, her thumb finally rubbing over her clit like an afterthought and another helpless wave of pleasure washes over her.

When she comes back to herself, she can feel as Natasha pulls her fingers back enough to add a fourth finger and push right back in.

It's not quite easy, still a snug fit, but after two soul-shaking orgasms, Becca's entire body has melted back into the bed, loose and pliant. She's gripping the headboard still, arms shaking with the effort of keeping them up, and Natasha looks up from her serious task of fitting her entire fucking fist into Becca's cunt and seems to take pity. 

"Lower your arms, kitten," she says gently. 

Becca lets them drop with a groan, curling into the pillow either side of her head. Dead weight. Her pleasure has burned down to a set of smoldering embers, relaxed and dizzy with afterglow. They're not done yet, though. Natasha is keen on taking her apart, and Becca's never felt so meticulously deconstructed. It's like sex is an art, not a drunken hobby. Maybe Becca should have been pursuing older women this whole time. More patience.

Four fingers. Natasha is fucking her slowly on four fingers, sinking easily into Becca and driving little breathless gasps out of her. If Natasha is aiming to make her come again, it's definitely on the horizon; Becca's record is eight orgasms in one particularly horny evening of solo pleasure. It's a lot more fun with someone else working you over, though. 

"You open up so sweet," says Natasha. "I feel like I can slide in so easy, just...tuck my thumb in and push...."

"Unh," groans Becca, nodding. "Yes, ma'am, I wanna, you can, whenever you want."

"I won't rush," sighs Natasha. "How's it feel? Tell me."

"So full," says Becca, gasping as Natasha teases at her clit with her other hand. It's a sharp frisson of something that isn't quite pleasure, oversensitive and achy. "Oh, god, so full, it feels so good."

"More of a stretch than with a toy, hm?"

"Y-yeah."

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Yes. Kinda? S'good, though." Becca's slurring a bit. She slaps her hand to her forehead, pushing sweaty hair out of her eyes. "Just a....stretch."

"Yeah," soothes Natasha. "You're doing so well, kitten. Such a good girl, opening up for me. Almost there—" She rocks in deep, a steady rhythm, fucking her open. The next time she pulls out, there's the pressure of another digit, Natasha's thumb tucked in, and she presses in firmly until— 

"Oh my god," wheezes Becca, her body just letting Natasha's entire hand sink into her.

Becca is...full, so fucking full. It's more than she's ever felt before and it just feels _good_. Her cunt tries to spasm around Natasha's wrist and Becca whines helplessly at the thick feeling.

"Oh," sighs Natasha, voice warm with praise. "You are beautiful like this, letting me in. Such a good girl."

Becca moans, licking her lips as she settles and grows used to the feeling, hips rocking subtly. She needs—fuck, she needs more, needs Natasha to make her come like this. "Natasha, I—please, will you f-fuck me?"

"Kitten, I would _love_ to fuck you," she purrs, and with slow, careful movements, Natasha starts to rock her hand back and then forward, rubbing Becca's clit in a slow, steady pattern.

Becca's eyes roll back; every movement, every thrust, is pressing every spot, stretching her open and fucking her. She's had girls use toys and fingers before, but nothing, absolutely nothing, has ever been this good, this all consuming. She can hear the slick sounds, the obscene wetness of her well worked body. She feels like she's being driven forward at a million miles per hour, hurtling toward another orgasm that she needs more than she knew possible. 

"Are you going to come for me, Becca? Are you going to come on my hand, sweet thing? Show me what a good girl you are, and I'll give you such a special treat, sit on that pretty face and let you taste my cunt while I use your tongue," says Natasha. Her voice sounds rough, turned on, and Becca did that, Becca made her composure slip, and that makes all of this hotter, better.

"Yes, ma'am," gasps Becca, out of her mind with pleasure. Natasha pushed her overworked body straight through post-orgasmic overstimulation right back into all-encompassing arousal. "Yes, god, yes please, want to come, want to taste you, please!"

"So polite," croons Natasha. "Sweet, gorgeous girl. There we go, that's it, you're close, aren't you?" 

Becca _is_ close, all of a sudden, pleasure pooling between her legs as Natasha massages her clit and fucks her open on her fist, sensation sweeping through her entire body as she crests her climax and comes with a bone-deep shudder and a helpless cry. She spasms slick and wet around Natasha wrist, clenching tight, and then gasps and collapses back in the pillows, pressing her hands over her face as she sucks in shuddering breaths. 

"Easy," soothes Natasha. "That's my girl. Easy, now. Just relax, let go, I need you to relax a bit for me, babe."

Natasha's voice is so soft, gentle, and Becca moans and lets any of the remaining tension seep out of her body as she focuses on breathing. Natasha very carefully tugs her hand free of Becca's body, drawing a little whimper out of her, but Natasha crawls up over Becca and presses soft kisses all over her face and shoulders and chest and breasts. 

"That was beautiful," Natasha is murmuring. "You're beautiful, kitten. You gave me something really special, thank you for trusting me with your pleasure."

"Unnh," mumbles Becca, nodding vaguely. "I'm dead now, thanks. You fucked me into another plane of existence. Holy shit."

Natasha smirks, green eyes bright and pleased. "Mmm, you're welcome."

Becca sighs, warmth in her face. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Good girl." She brushes another kiss to her cheek and then catches her mouth, licking past her parted lips. Natasha kisses like she does everything else: confident, precise, and excellent. 

Becca relaxes into it, kissing back for long minutes as she finishes coming down, until she pulls back slightly to look shyly at Natasha. "I want you to come too."

"Of course you do, because you're a very polite young lady," says Natasha. She nips Becca's lip and then pulls back entirely. "You're ready to keep being good for me?"

Becca nods eagerly. "Yes, please. I want to taste you."

With a grin, Natasha effortlessly sheds her panties, crawling up Becca's body until she takes a nice thick handful of hair and holds her still. She kneels over Becca's face, hovering just above her as she looks down.

Natasha's cunt is beautiful, just like her, a neatly trimmed patch of golden red hair over her mons pubis, her folds pink and glistening. "Put your hands on my hips, kitten, and hold on to me, and if you need me to stop, you tap my hip. Do you understand?"

Becca nods again, hands going to Natasha's hips immediately. She feels greedy, desperate to taste her. "Please, ma'am, I'll be good for you."

"I know you will," purrs Natasha. She gives Becca's hair a little tug, angling her head back, and then settles down onto Becca's face. 

Becca loves to eat girls out, has always offered it eagerly, but she's never really had this before, where her input isn't really required beyond use of her tongue. Natasha just needs her to hold still—which she enforces with a firm hand in Becca's hair (and boy does that show of dominance make Becca go lightheaded)—while she rides Becca's face. It's overwhelming in the best possible way, those strong thighs clamped tight around Becca's head like she's been fantasizing about for days, and the heady taste of her sweet cunt as she rocks her hips in a firm, efficient rhythm. 

If she died like this, smothered by Natasha's pussy, honestly? Becca would die happy. 

Messy face, wet with Natasha's slick, clutching at Natasha's perfect ass, Becca sinks into a warm, floaty place in the back of her head, moaning enthusiastically. Above her, Natasha is slowly, gratifyingly losing her composure, head tossed back, flush creeping down her pale skin. 

_Look at those perfect fucking tits_ , thinks Becca dazedly, watching Natasha's breasts bounce as she grinds down and rocks back up in a smooth, graceful motion. She's still wearing that delicate bra, just barely covering her up. She can see her rosy nipples through the fabric. God, she wants to get her mouth on one, see if she can make Natasha squirm a little. 

Natasha lets out a breathy gasp, arching her back and fucking down onto Becca's tongue. She doesn't make a lot of noise in general, so this one trickles pleasantly down Becca's spine, drinking in her arousal. With final low moan, Natasha shudders bodily, clamping down hard as she crests into climax.

Natasha relaxes in increments, panting slightly as she gracefully climbs off of Becca, slumping down next to her. "Good girl," she groans, stretching like a cat before she reaches over and pulls Becca close for a messy wet kiss.

Becca honestly feels more amazing than she ever has before. She counted on the sex being good, the build up was...amazing, but it completely blew away all of her expectations. It was, hands down, the best sex of her life.

Eventually, Natasha sits up and says, "Come on, let's get cleaned up and...we can sleep in your room." She smirks, leaning in to kiss Becca before she winks. "Think the wet spot on my bed will need more than fresh sheets."

Becca's cheeks burn. She's never squirted like that before, but as she keeps reminding herself, she's never done a lot of things like she did tonight. She lets Natasha pull her up and take her to the shower. 

Natasha is thorough in this too, gliding slippery, soapy hands all over her body while she sucks kisses across her shoulder. "So beautiful, Becca. You're gorgeous."

Becca's eyes flutter shut and she leans against the cool tile, wondering how anyone is ever going to measure up to the way Natasha makes her feel. 

Fuck, that's stupid. That's so stupid. This is vacation, this is a fun little fling to occupy her time and attention until she's back to the real world. Becca doesn't have time for a relationship anyway, and a woman like Natasha doesn't have time for silly little grad students who still have papers to write. 

After they're all cleaned up, Natasha pushes Becca to her knees and holds Becca's mouth to her clit until she comes again, and Becca welcomes it, welcomes the way it pushes her right out of her mind. 

When they’re finished rinsing clean, Natasha shuts off the water and dries them both off, bundling them into luxurious fluffy robes. 

They duck giggling next door to Becca's room where they spend another hour making out lazily until they finally fall asleep.

Yeah. Vacation is amazing.


End file.
